


What Happens Next

by CaptainTarthister



Series: From Across the Room [9]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Falling In Love, Love Confessions, Semi-Public Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-09 13:25:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5541635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainTarthister/pseuds/CaptainTarthister
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Conclusion of From Across the Room series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Two months later  
Mainly Brienne POV with some Jaime

 

Fucking Jaime kept Brienne up late. The blasted man liked to call her his insatiable wench but he was the one who wouldn’t be satisfied, in her opinion. After dinner at his or her place, they would fuck on the couch, fall asleep for an hour or two, go to bed, revived, and fuck again. Even when they got home late from a movie or a date, they still fucked at least twice in the night. Or they worshipped each other with hands and mouths. At least it wasn't everyday but Brienne yawning widely during morning meetings at Evenstar Bakery & Cafe had become a normal thing.

The result was Brienne only had half her mind on the day and the other half thinking about fucking Jaime yet again. Dear Gods, she thought. If surrendering her virgnity meant she would become obsessed with sex, she’d have held on to it. But it wasn’t sex per se, or sex with others, that drove her near mad. It was fucking Jaime, Jaime who was still an unapologetic asshole when she accused him of turning her into a distracted hussy.

“It’s a wonder I haven’t burned down the bakery yet with only half my brain working, thanks to you. Might I remind you that I have to get up early?” 

Jaime then _reminded_ her that since she owned her business, she could turn over the keys to Sansa or another trusted member of the staff to open it and take charge of the deliveries.

“Don’t micro-manage,” he said, leaning against the pillows stacked against the headboard of her bed. He spread his arms as if he belonged there and she liked that about him though he was sure to get a hard pinch on the side for it later. “Learn to delegate and trust your people. Or you’ll be too exhausted and cranky to fuck. Now close the door and come here.” He winked at her. “I want you to fuck me.” 

It wasn’t because fucking had become a regular part of her schedule why Brienne began delegating tasks—and Jaime’s advice had little to do with it too. It was among her many plans for Evenstar Bakery & Café. She refusedto add more to what people did when she couldn’t promise a pay increase yet. Business was brisk and constant and it looked like her bank loan at Castamere would be settled earlier expected. Now she could guarantee higher pay and have enough money for more equipment. But first things first, she took care of the salary increase. Then she and Sansa started training Hot Pie in the logistics of running a bakery. He had started being in charge of deliveries and inventory too. 

It freed up her mornings, somewhat, though Jaime still kept her up late. And it wasn’t like she’d complained. Half-assed was her effort at best. She _loved_ every second of their fucking and had no regrets for waiting so long to do it. After all, she had been waiting for him.

She was not beautiful and he didn’t make her feel so. In spite of having seen all of her and knowing her, really knowing her, Jaime still looked at her as if she was this great, rare thing. He never appeared to be bothered that she was taller than him, that her wrists were thick, her hands larger than his and her palms were rough. He liked to joke that since getting together, his wardrobe had expanded due to their similar size—which included their shoes. They were the same size but Jaime’s feet were wide while hers were narrow and long-toed. He did not mind as well that her sartorial taste ran toward casual, functional clothes rather than pretty ones.

Only once did he ask her to wear a dress. It was for Tyrion and Margaery's wedding. Margaery and Brienne had met. It turned out that Olenna, Margaery's tyrant grandmother, had placed the order for her wedding cake earlier than Tyrion and Jaime intended. In order to throw off the press sniffing for any information for the wedding of the year, she placed the order under the name Lorie Redwyne. 

Brienne made the cake and designed it, a four-tiered dream of white dusted with edible gold powder. She arrived in a cap-sleeved dress that showed a lot of her legs. But after the cake was set up, she left and had Hot Pie and Gendry in charge. Jaime had not been too pleased about it. He wanted to introduce her to Tywin officially. She had met Tyrion again, who liked her, and Cersei, who, going by Tyrion’s opinion, liked her as well. Brienne still refused to meet Tywin, still remembering too clearly her humiliation that night.

They were in Jaime’s kitchen, sorting through their Meereenese takeout. Brienne took plates and utensils from the cupboards. She was setting the table as Jaime spoke.

“Wench, we’ve been fucking for quite a while. You’ve met my brother and my sister. Don’t you think it’s time I officially introduce you to Tywin?” 

She scowled at him. “Oh, officially, as in me in clothes, compared to before, _unofficially,_ when I was naked?”

“You weren’t naked. You had on a coat and stockings.” Jaime had only mentioned once that if she’d looked at the text message he’d sent, she wouldn’t have been so. . .eager. But he liked Brienne eager. He regretted Tywin saw her like that but his cock surely didn’t. The incident with his father was the only regrettable thing about that night but, in hindsight, it drove Brienne in his arms. He didn’t blame Brienne for what happened but that’s what she heard when she mentioned it. Jaime Lannister was nothing if a fast learner. 

“I want my father to know the woman I’ve been fucking.” Jaime grinned as her face flared to delicious, dark red. “And love.” 

Brienne rolled her eyes. “How romantic of you.”

“You deal with impossible people everyday. You also fuck one of them.” Jaime went to the table and hugged her from behind. He nuzzled the collar of her sweater out of the way so he could nibble on her shoulder. “How is Tywin Lannister any different?” 

Brienne sighed and leaned against him. “Jaime, I love you. I will kill for you without question but to see him again. . .” 

She couldn’t finish the thought because her throat had closed up at the idea of being face to face with his father, even with clothes this time. Not knowing what else to say or do, she put her hands on Jaime’s arms. He stiffened and she braced herself for their first fight. They argued all the time but they’ve never fought before. 

“What did you say, wench?”

“I can’t see your father again. Gods, Jaime, that was the hands down the most awful—“

“No, no, no.” Jaime turned her to face him. Brienne saw that his arms had dropped back to his sides. “Before that.”

Puzzled, she frowned. “I will kill for you?” 

He smiled at her. “Right before that.”

Understanding dawned on her. _“Oh.”_ Brienne, who looked at her shoes less when speaking now, did it again after so long. Her face warmed even more. Then she looked at him, her heart in her eyes. “I love you, Jaime.”

Jaime pushed an errant lock of her hair away from her cheek. “Well,” he said, looking at her mouth. “Since you’ve finally said you love me, we can table the discussion about meeting my father for some other time.”

Then he suddenly bent and picked her up by the legs. Brienne yelped and quickly threw her arms around his shoulders as she lost her balance. 

“Jaime, what are you doing?” She demanded though she knew what he intended to do. It was habit more out of curiosity and outrage that made her ask. She clung to him as he headed for his bedroom. 

“What better way to celebrate your declaration of love than by fucking?” Jaime pointed out just before he tossed her on the bed. Brienne’s shriek of laughter had him laughing too. As she shook her hair from her flushed face, he slipped off her boots then her socks. They flew on opposite corners of the room. 

“If I tell you I love you over and over does that mean I’ll never meet your father?” Brienne joked as he unzipped her pants next. 

How is this happening? She thought. She will always think that her times with Jaime Lannister are dreams she hoped to never wake from. Gritting her teeth, she willed her shaking hands to reach up and loosen the button of his jeans. Jaime gasped but he didn’t help her. Instead, he worked faster on her. 

He dragged her jeans and underwear down her legs in one swoop and returned to her so she could finish unzipping him. He sighed her name as she released his hard cock, thick and beautiful and all _hers._

“Jaime,” she whispered, grasping his long length and looking at him. 

“Good. Remember that. Because now’s not the time to talk about Tywin, wench,” Jaime growled against her mouth before kissing her. 

This time, Jaime kept her up much later—or more like, she complained when she saw the sun rising as she lay panting in his arms, he hadn’t let her sleep at all. Back on their first night, he was hesitant teaching her the many ways people could fuck because she was still new to it and didn’t want her too sore. Last night, he not only _reviewed_ them with her, he also inserted a few, mind-boggling positions. Brienne was sore in muscles of her body she didn’t know existed. How she was still in one piece was a miracle. 

“You’re a horny bastard, Lannister,” she muttered, trying to move out of his arms. When Jaime just sighed and held her tighter, she started kicking him in the shins. He grunted and glared at her. Hair in his eyes, shadows under his red-rimmed gaze, he still looked bloody fantastic. 

“Really? That’s what I get for giving you the fuck of your life?”

Brienne batted her eyelashes sweetly at him. “I love you.”

“Seven bloody hells, I’ve created a monster.” Jaime groaned, letting go of her. But she saw the glint in his eyes before he turned away. She pulled the sheets to her breasts as Jaime, naked and sure, went to get the clothes scattered on the floor. He bent to get his pants, showing off the high, perky cheeks of his tight ass.

“Need I remind you that my work has me on my feet all day unlike yours?’ Brienne told him with a yawn as he pulled on his jeans.

“When you tell me you love me,” Jaime said, turning around and shooting her a wicked grin. He zipped up his pants. “I give you an all-night fuck.”

“My back isn’t exactly thankful, Lannister. And my ass is numb.” Brienne tried to rub some feeling back on her right butt cheek. 

“Would you like me to spank it back to life? You seemed to enjoy it immensely when I did it a while ago.”

“Fuck you, Lannister.”

“Also that. You were born to ride me, wench. Hard.”

Brienne groaned and sank back on the bed. She drew a pillow over her head. “You’re not going to shut up, are you?”

“You’ve never complained about my mouth or tongue. You like my tongue, especially.”

“Oh, gods.”

“Yep. Those were your exact words.”

“The Seven fuck me hard.”

“Not exactly that. It was `Jaime, fuck me hard,’ or `Fuck me hard, Jaime.’ There are other variations. Hard to recall. Your thighs are really effective ear mufflers.” 

“How the hell are you wide awake when you didn’t get any sleep at all?”

“Fucking you is the equivalent of downing an entire case of an energy drink. Or maybe your cunt is all sugar? Maybe you need a new nickname. Sugar Cunt. Nah. Too long. I still like wench.”

Under her pillow, Brienne shook her head. “Are you done?”

“Wow, your back is blushing. How can you still blush when we’ve fucked in positions that even Tyrion doesn’t know about?”

Jaime pulled the pillow away from her. Brienne rolled her eyes at him. He laughed.

“Let me make it up to you by taking care of breakfast, what do you say? It’s the least I could for the woman I love.” 

“You can skip the cheese in the menu. It’s too early,” Brienne told him dryly.

“You know, if you’re this cranky, maybe I haven’t fucked you hard enough.” 

“What? _No!_ Jaime, don’t be an idiot!” Brienne exclaimed as Jaime threw his body on top of her. She giggled as he pelted her with kisses. Soon the blanket was off and so were Jaime’s pants. She speared her fingers through his hair as she kissed him hard on the mouth. Then his cock was sliding in and out of her cunt. They moved slowly against each other, yet urgently. 

“Horny bastard,” she whispered, her eyes soft.

“I love you.”

Ten minutes later, Jaime patted her naked rump. “Get up, wench. Or you’ll be late for work. Let’s go, let’s go.” 

“This is all your fault,” Brienne said as she wrapped the blanket around her. Jaime grinned at her as he pulled on his pants. He looked more alert than ever, the asshole. 

“It sure is. Oh, I should have told you before. You’ve run out of deodorant, wench. Feel free to use mine. I hope you like `winter pine’ scent. You like it on me.” He was out of the room and laughing his head off by the time she threw a pillow at him. 

During the drive to Evenstar Bakery & Café, he teased her about smelling like him and would try to pull her arm up to sniff it at every red light. Then he joked about how he had to drop her off to work since she shouldn’t be walking a lot today. He yelped when she punched him in the arm. She did kiss him to placate him when they reached the shop. 

There were already customers in Evenstar Bakery & Café. Sansa and Ros manned the counters. Brienne nodded at them blearily. 

Sansa, a knowing smirk on her face, said, “Well. Somebody was up late again.”

“Oh, shut up,” Brienne grumbled.

“There’s coffee in the kitchen. Pod’s sick with the flu so we’re a hand short today.”

“Alright. And thanks. I bloody need it.”

Business at the Evenstar had kicked up so, and with winter, the influx of customers were more than ever. People needed their warm beverages and sugar, Brienne thought as she left the kitchen a few hours later to see how things were going. Every now and then, she took over waiting duties—Pod’s absence could be felt because that was how busy they were lately. But good boss that Brienne was, she checked on Pod, who was coughing so horribly on the phone. She asked Gendry to check on him after work, and gave him money to buy chicken soup and tea. 

The lunch hour didn’t see a lot of people. They didn’t sell any meals, only desserts. Brienne was behind the counter this time while Sansa took her cigarette break. 

As she rang up Table Five’s bill on the counter, she became aware of a customer standing in front of her. “I’ll be with you in a sec,” she said as the register opened. She took out bills and coins there, put them on a small tray and called Shae over. 

“Table Five’s change,” Brienne told her. It was Shae’s table.

“Thanks, Bree,” Shae smiled at her and took the tray. 

“I’m so sorry to keep you waiting,” Brienne said, head still inclined low as she shut the cashier. “Welcome to the Evenstar— _holy fuck._ ” 

Tywin Lannister smiled at her benignly. “Hello, Brienne.”


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're in for a few things:
> 
> 1\. Protective jaime  
> 2.Meddling Tywin  
> 3\. Pia, Jaime's assistant (PrettyPia)  
> 4\. Gregor Clegane who demands to be called Gigi (D_Hills_of_Gigi_  
> 5\. Taena Merryweather, Cersei's assistant (TaenaYearRound)  
> 6\. Oberyn Martell as Tyrion's assistant (ObieRed)  
> 7\. And Martyn Lannister, the intern

Jaime POV

“My father did _what?_ ” 

Jaime’s office was at the other end of the hall. He kept the door shut thought the door was glass and everyone could see what was going on—and he had nothing to hide. Nevertheless, his roar echoed throughout the hall as if there no barriers at all. Martyn Lannister, who was in intern purgatory and was given the really exciting task of filing, would later claim he heard his cousin all the way to the stockroom. 

Pia, Jaime’s assistant, wheeled her chair back in surprise as her boss stormed out of his office, his emerald eyes dark and rage on his handsome face. “Hold all my calls and my meetings,” he barked over his shoulder. Jaime was a good boss but this was the first time he had raised his voice at her, let alone showed anger. Pia could only nod in panic.

Once Jaime disappeared behind the wall, she wheeled herself back to her computer and sent an instant message to the Lannisters’ assistants.

PrettyPia: Golden Boy on a rampage. Your boss’ doing, Gregor?

D_Hillsof_Gigi: Unh-unh. Why blame the king right away? And only my mother calls me Gregor. I’m Gigi!

PrettyPia: I heard Golden Boy. 

TaenaYearRound: Better alert the Lioness.

ObieRed: Golden Boy just passed by. Fangs and claws out. Beware.

The elevator to Tywin’s office did not alleviate Jaime’s anger. If anything, waiting for the damned thing to take him there only worsened his temper. The doors took too long opening that he shoved them open, ignoring the protests the machine made from the force he inflicted on it. He stomped toward Gregor Clegane, his father’s assistant.

For an assistant, Gregor dressed a bit on the too formal side with his three-piece suits. But he was a sharp dresser, and for Tywin, appearance was everything. But there were additions to Gregor’s clothes that brought a jarring effect. First were his manicured, purple-tipped nails. Next were the boat-sized patent purple pumps peeking out from under his glass desk. Normally, Jaime teased him good-naturedly and even engaged in harmless flirting with the man. Today, if Gregor, no Gigi, as he liked to be called, got between him and Tywin, Jaime might tackle him to the ground. The man was a foot taller but Jaime would do it. 

“Hello, Jaime,” Gregor gave him a friendly smile. “What can I do for you?”

“My father. Is he in there?” Jaw tight, he nodded curtly at the door behind Gregor.

“Oh. Yes. Let me buzz—“

“Don’t fucking bother,” Jaime growled under his breath. Gregor’s hand flew to his heart as Jaime shoved the door open with such force he feared they would get torn off their hinges.

“Oh, Seven Hells,” Gregor whispered. “I think I just creamed my boxers.”

“What the hell did you say to Brienne?” Jaime shouted at Tywin.

Jaime was so mad he could barely see through the red haze. He glared at Tywin, who was sitting calmly behind the desk as if everything was normal.

“You had no business,” Jaime seethed, striding toward him, “to see my girlfriend. Let alone to say those things to her!”

“What did I do so wrong? I merely said that you’ve been seeing a lot of each other and it’s taking so long for us to meet that I thought to just introduce myself to her. Although we’ve met before—“

“Not that!” Jaime snarled. “You—you—you fucking told her we were getting _married?_ ”

“Now, now, calm down.” Tywin held up a hand. “I said that she has to start cleaning up her language if she’s serious about you. Though I think,” he frowned at Jaime, “you have something to do with that. She seems a sweet woman.”

“Brienne called me hysterical. She said you told her that she’s going to have to clean up her language since she’s going to be a Lannister!” Jaime’s ears were still ringing. Actually, Brienne had not been hysterical. She had yelled at Jaime for sending his father to her and telling him things about their relationship she knew nothing about. 

“I fucking do not appreciate being ambushed,” she told him. “And I absolutely hate that you’ve been telling him things that I should know about first!” Then she hung up. 

“Jaime, if you still don’t know then I’m going to have to point it out to you,” Tywin chided but he sounded annoyed. “You’ve been seeing this girl—“

 _“Her name,”_ Jaime bit out, _“is Brienne.”_

“How long have you been seeing Brienne? Well, I don’t know. But she’s the only one who stuck around. Clearly there is something about this girl—“

_“Brienne.”_

“There is something about Brienne that makes her better by a mile than all those bimbos you dated. She also comes from a good family, an old family, though it’s regrettable that she’s an orphan—“

Jaime was sure he had lost all feeling in his legs but he was still standing. “You looked her up? _What the actual fuck?_ ”

Tywin glared at him. “Language, Jaime. That is not a good influence on Brienne.”

“You have no right digging in to her life. You do not have the right to put lies in her head—“

“Oh? A girl like that and you’re not thinking of marrying her? She’s good stock, Jaime.”

Jaime lost it. “She’s not a fucking brood mare!”

“What I’m saying very poorly is I thought to see for myself this woman you’re serious about. Well, the first time I met her is better forgotten—“

“As it should be.”

Tywin grinned. “But it’s undeniably unforgettable.”

Jaime wanted to die. He wished that lightning would strike him on the spot. He wished the floors would open up and he’d plunge to his death thirty stories down. 

“She’s exceedingly tall. Long legs. Really long legs. Beautiful eyes, if I may add. Good birthing hips but---“

“I swear to the Seven that if you talk any more about Brienne’s body I will kill you.” 

Speaking calmly and softly convinced Tywin that his son was serious. He cleared his throat and as a precaution, took his letter openers from their holder and put them in his drawer. Jaime nodded at the window behind him.

“What makes you think I won’t throw you out the window?” He said.

 _“What the hell did I do that was so wrong?”_ Tywin demanded.

“Imagine how Brienne must have felt when you showed up at her work unannounced, and with the memory of your first meeting still fresh in her mind. Imagine how she felt when you started telling her about becoming a Lannister when we haven’t even talked about marriage.”

 _“You should._ I like her."

Jaime didn’t know if he should start tearing his hair off his scalp or walk over to Tywin and do it to him.“You really think you’ve done nothing wrong?”

“You’re not doing anything.”

“Stay out of my private life, Father. And Brienne’s. I mean it. Our relationship is not a fucking acquisition nor an asset to Lannister Enterprises. I want whatever you’ve found out about her, any dossier about her to be put in the trash. You have no business poking around her life and you certainly have no business meddling with our relationship.”

The two men stared at each other unblinkingly. Then Tywin nodded. Jaime straightened his jacket.

“Now. I have to go fix this mess you started, Father. If something arises, you’re on your own for the day. Or for as long as it takes for me to take care of this. This is the last time you meddle in my life.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because why not have Gregor Clegane gay? Why not?


	3. Three

Brienne POV

Brienne sat on her window seat with her chin propped on her knees. Winter officially began last week. The world, in her eyes, had come a big, slice of a pastry. The dark earth was the cake while the snow was the delicious frosting. She sighed, remembering something Jaime told her once. Something about how she smelled like sugar and snow.

_Jaime. Jaime. Jaime._

Thinking about him was a head rush. He was light itself, burning so brightly that it made the idea of darkness doubtful. She didn’t think that his brilliance could mean the end of things.

Such as, she could hardly remember life before Jaime came along. She remembered the first time they kissed, how she was shaking so hard and felt cold and hot at once. She had been kissed, once, hesitantly, nothing like that way Jaime first brushed his lips against her. For the longest time the idea of such a kiss—consuming, hungry and mind-obliterating—belong only in the romance novels she secretly enjoyed and hid under the bed. Jaime showed her it was no lie.

He threw open the door to a lot of possibilities. The possibility of being desired, wanted. Of being able to see herself clearly, even through his eyes. The possibility of love. Brienne guarded her heart more fiercely than her virginity, always thinking that the latter was only of her body, the heart something else, something deeper, one that she should not give so easily. Jaime burned away the walls she had erected around it.  
Loving Jaime was both exhilarating yet terrifying. It seemed, in a single bound, she had gone from Point A to Point Z. Suddenly she had a lover. Suddenly there was a man who loved her. Suddenly, she was in love. The speed of their relationship didn’t bother her—she had no experience with them and though they seemed to be rushing, it felt right. 

What wasn’t right were the things Tywin Lannister had put in her head. Brienne was hyperventilating after their conversation and had to breathe into a paper bag. She had yelled at Jaime for telling his father things that should only be between them, things that she should know about first. Brienne was so mad that, short-staffed as they were, had to excuse herself from work lest she snapped off the heads of her co-workers or the customers. She went home, changed into a baggy black sweater and gray leggings, went to bed, smelled Jaime’s soap and cologne around her, threw the sheets back. A bottle of wine was uncorked, a goblet pulled from the cupboard. She brought them with her to her seat, placing them on the window frame. 

She had no idea how long she was staring out of the window. So she was startled when the sound of the lock being turned filled the apartment.   
“Wench.” Jaime entered and shut the door. He flicked on a lamp. “Are you here? You’re not taking my calls.”

She had them all go to voicemail. Brienne didn’t move from her perch, listening instead to him removing his coat, the creak of the closet door as it was opened and closed. Switches turned on followed soon after until light filled the darkness of the room. 

“There you are,” he said from behind her. She looked at his reflection in the glass. Jaime stood by the couch. His hair stuck out in all direction, his jacket sliding off one shoulder and his tie askew. Jaime looking like he’s been to Seven Hells and back was new. Frowning, she turned to look at him to get a clearer look. It was no lie. 

“So you decided to get drunk to forget? It was that bad with Tywin?” Jaime asked, walking toward her. He took the bottle and goblet and set them on the floor before he sat on the spot where they had been. His clean, knee-weakening scent hit her. Briefly, she remembered that she was wearing his deodorant today. Brienne returned her chin on her knees. 

“I haven’t touched the wine.”

“Good. You need a clear head.” Jaime leaned against the glass. He took in her rumpled hair, her blank, downcast eyes, her hunched form.“Though if you had, I would join you. It’s shit, what happened. My father had no right to say those things to you. Look at me, wench.”

“Why do you call me that and not by my name?” She demanded.

“I call you by your name. Just not when you’re around. I did tell you before that Wench Tarth sounds a helluva lot nicer. But only I will call you that.” Jaime reached out to clasp her foot, the closest of her he could reach. “Brienne,” he said, gently this time. “Let’s talk.”

“Why? You seem content to talk to your father about us rather than with me.”

“He’s mistaken.”

Now she looked at him. If looks could kill, Jaime thought. 

“What are you talking about?”

“Tywin likes to meddle. He thought that since we’ve been seeing each other for a while that we’re headed. . .in that direction.”

“And what is that, Jaime? Spit it out. If you can talk to your father about it, why not me?”

“That’s just it.” Jaime sounded angry. “I do not talk to him about us. With Tyrion, yes, but not the things my father said. If we’re going there, I’d certainly talk to you first. Before Tyrion, if I may clarify.”

“Ever? You don’t talk to your father about me?”

“He knows we’re together but that’s because of that night. You remember. But no. I don’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because what we have is private.”

“If it’s bloody private where on earth did he get the idea that you and I are going to be married?”

“Who knows how his mind works. He may be my father but I’m not wired to his brain. Thank the gods. But I never had that conversation with him. Like I said, if we’re going that way, I’d talk to you first.”

Brienne hugged her knees and returned her chin there. “Jaime, it was so awful. He—He told me that being a Lannister is a huge responsibility. That one of the things I have to take care of is my language. That this is an old, important family I’m marrying to.” She sighed, her breath bringing a mist to the glass. “Not to mention that this man saw me naked.”

“I didn’t know he was going to visit you. If I had, I would have stopped him. Or at least, I would have been there with you.”

“It’s just that. . .Jaime, this is too much pressure.”

“I know.”

“It was only yesterday I told you that I loved you.”

“Took you long enough. But better late than never.” Jaime grasped her ankle. “You’re not thinking of taking it back, are you?” His voice sounded a little high.

Brienne gasped and she whirled to face him, dropping her legs to the floor. “What? How horrible. Why do you think I’d do that?”

“What my father did?” Jaime pointed out.

“He has nothing to do with us. But he should be reminded of that.”

“I already did. I explicitly told him to stay out of our business. After I threatened to kill him.”

Brienne’s eyes were wide. “Jaime, you didn’t. He’s your father.”

“Wench, when it comes to you, it appears committing violence is very easy. Had you lived during Aegon’s Conquest, I would probably go to war against my father for you.” Jaime risked a small smile. “Or pushed him out the window if you did the equivalent of the naked-under-the-coat thing of that time.”

Brienne had no doubt. For all his requests that they get to know each other first before fucking, Jaime had more than his share of impulsive moments. He rarely second-guessed himself and once got his head on something, ignored all calls for caution.

“Still, it wasn’t his fault and you know it.”

“It’s not your fault either.”

Jaime held out an arm to her. Brienne nodded and went to him. They hugged each other tightly. He kissed her hard on the forehead, her cheek, her nose. She gasped at the hunger of kisses. Everything about Jaime Lannister really was overwhelming. He was a strong surge of the sea coming at her to drag her from the protection of the shore. She had to nudge him away from her so she could speak lest she started begging him to fuck her. 

“Jaime, you’re my first relationship. You’re my first everything. But. . .but the thing that Tywin said. . .you promise you’re not thinking of that?” 

She asked it baring all the fear and anxiety she felt at the idea of something so permanent. She felt a rush of excitement when she signed the bank loan’s contract. But that was money for a dream. Marriage was to a person. It was for life.

She didn’t know if she was ready for that. Yet.

Jaime took her hand and kissed it. “I swear it.”

She sighed in relief and put her head on his chest. “Thank you. And I love you.”

He laughed against her hair. “You really are unlike all women.”

“There’s no one like you either.” Brienne smiled up at him affectionately. “The world can’t take another big ego.” 

Suddenly, Jaime's eyes darkened and he growled, “Wench. _My wench._ ” 

She closed her eyes as he kissed her, this time on the lips. It was gentle yet laced with yearning and passion. Her breath was hard and fast as the kiss deepened. Just as she was about to surrender to the power of Jaime’s kisses, he pulled away. He stood and took her with him.

He touched her on the cheek. “Let’s go to bed. I owe you a good night’s sleep.” 

In her bedroom, she sank down the mattress and turned on her side, tucking the comforter under her arms. Jaime shrugged off his clothes until he was wearing only his short-sleeved undershirt and boxers. Then he joined her, legs tangling with hers, his arm locking around her waist. He swept part of her hair—longer now and almost brushing her shoulders—away from her nape so he could press his lips there. 

“Sleep,” he told her.

She brought his hand to her chest, to her heart. “I do love you, Jaime Lannister.”


	4. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if this chapter helps advance the plot, only that it begged to be written. I hope you like it! Please comment!

One year later

Jaime glared at Sansa. “What’s wrong with that?”

“This is Brienne we’re talking about. She doesn’t like being the center of attention. She doesn’t lie attention, period.” Sansa was firm. “Yes, it’s romantic to have a string quartet serenade her at Evenstar and you’ll appear behind them with the ring but it’s too public for her taste. Getting Brienne to sit for an interview is a lot like wrestling a bear.”

“But it’s romantic, you said!” Jaime insisted.

“I’m not saying it is. But I’ve known Brienne longer. She’s going to be too embarrassed and too overwhelmed to answer and you’re going to be embarrassed and worse, people who whipped out their phones will have the video up on WeTube in minutes. It will trend on Crows and by evening, it will be on the evening news. Brienne will lock herself in the apartment and you’ll never see her again.”

“Listen, I brought you down here to help me. I’ve run by you a long list of romantic proposals and you shot them all down.” Jaime shuddered. “Brienne told me you’re a wolf when it comes to the yearly budget but you’re not. You’re an entire pack. How would you like to work for Tywin?”

Sansa grimaced. “I like lemon cakes, not blood.”

They were in his office at Lannister Enterprises. Jaime had asked Sansa last night to come by for lunch but to keep it from Brienne. Sansa, loyal as ever, had sworn to beat his ass for whatever secrecy he’s making her a part of that would harm her best friend. Jaime finally told her the truth: he was going to propose.

“So far, you think the Evenstar proposal is bad, the one spelled in the sky tacky, the one with the JumboTron at the WBA tackier, and during Friday dinner at Casterly Rock horrible—actually, I don’t like that myself—you think it’s a cliché to propose to her with a ring in a cake or a cupcake.” Jaime put down his pen and sighed. “I’m out of ideas, Sansa. Tell me what to do.”

“I’m not going to tell you how to propose to Brienne. You figure it out.”

Jaime scratched his head. "That's precisely why I asked you over."

"I'm your adviser. Consultant. I won't tell you what to do!"

“You’ve known her longer.”

“I don’t know everything she wants. Don’t you know her?”

“You’re doing a fine job of showing I don’t.”

“Oh.” Sansa paused and looked apologetic. “I didn’t mean that. Sorry.”

Jaime snapped his fingers. “How about during a candlelight dinner?”

Sansa cocked a russet brow. “Really? The two of you? From what Brienne tells me you’re basically peasants eating out of cartons. The only difference is you have a roof over your heads. She’ll know right away something’s up. And neither of you really like going out. She'll sniff you out right away.”

“We cook every now and then.” Jaime said defensively. “She likes my lamb kebobs. Hey! How about if I—“

“No, Jaime. You don’t put a fucking diamond ring with raw meat and vegetables or skewer it. Gods.”

Jaime was about to tell her that his ring was different but clamped his mouth shut. He wanted to keep that to himself until it was the right time.  
He and Brienne have been together for one year and two weeks. It wasn’t all bliss and fun but it was work he enjoyed very much. Because relationships were work, he would eventually realize. And being that they were not the easiest thing, you wanted it with someone who’s as willing as you were to work on it. But more important, you should love the person too. And she likewise.

Being with Brienne Tarth was the best thing in his life is but not the easiest. However, it always felt right.His wench could be a little harsh when Jaime’s ego needed stroking. But the upside was, he only had to tell her to be “ten percent less harsh” and she took it to heart. She will never be the kind of woman to take him by the hand and guide him step by step but she will tell him when he was wrong. As blunt as Brienne could be, she was also the gentlest, most caring person he knew.

In her arms was the security he never thought he could need. She took care of him when he had the chicken pox, going as far as wrapping his hand in oven mitts and duct-taping them so he couldn’t easily bite them off. She made him tea and sat across from him in their kitchen as he ranted about a merger that fell through and cost Lannister Enterprises close to a million golden dragons. As he raged her expected her to outline to him where he went wrong, what he could have done. His shoulders were tensed and he was out for blood. Instead, she let him talk until he fell asleep. When he woke up, he was on the couch, wrapped in a blanket. A note was taped to his forehead. He ripped it off in annoyance and there, in Brienne’s small script, were the words he would never forget: _You’re great. I love you._

Brienne also made him laugh and smile—quite a lot, and it was noted by Tyrion and Pia. The one time they attempted basketball, a sport they weren’t into but thought to try for kicks, they ended up wrestling each other for the ball. Jaime bruised his chin when the ball bounced hard toward him while dribbling. Brienne ended up sprawled on the ground and cursing him to Seven Hells in between gasps of laughter because he had tripped her. Once recovered, she shot to her feet and slammed him to the ground. 

She couldn’t whistle. He tried teaching her but she ended up spitting at him. He thought himself a better poker than Tyrion, who protested he was. Brienne outsmarted them both by winning six times in a row. 

He was excited to teach her how to ski when they went on a holiday to Winterland. It turned out that as sure and as graceful Brienne was in the kitchen measuring, mixing, baking, working with fire, she couldn’t make heads or tails with her skis and ended up flat on her ass on the ice. But she wouldn’t give up and neither would Jaime—who took the opportunity to teach her to grope her. "Jaime! I can't believe you!" Brienne shrieked upon realizing--well, it was his fault grabbing her by the boob like a green boy. She shoved his face in the snow and their laughter was so loud he thought it would result in an avalanche. At some point, they stopped—one of them or both initiated a kiss. Once back in their suite, Jaime impressed Brienne by ripping off her ski pants. They leaped in their small, private hot spring and fucked surrounded by steam. How they made it to bed neither could remember very well but they were there when they woke up an hour later and fucked again. 

Their week-long skiing holiday put them three days on the slopes and two in their suite, fucking in between sleep and room service. Jaime taught her how to make out swirling and transferring chocolate between their mouths, which disgusted Brienne. In the bath, he poured champagne down her chest and sucked her sweetened nipples, drawing sharp cries from her. He laughed as she put whipped cream on him, red-faced and ordering him to shut up. When she put her mouth on him, he could only groan her name. He retaliated by putting maple syrup all over her breasts, everywhere.

He also had her watch them fucking. Jaime settled naked on the sofa in their suite and placed Brienne on his lap. His wench was a blushing, trembling thing as he whispered to her to look at them in the mirror. He showed her that by spreading his legs wide, her cunt opened too, a pink, beautiful thing, a rose slowly coming to bloom. He pushed three fingers in her, cupped her breasts, sent her to a hard climax. As she sagged against his chest, her pale skin pink, he urged her to look at them in the mirror again. This time he had her watch as he slid his cock in her cunt. He came hard watching her watching them, her blue eyes half-shut, his green stare blown and overtaken by black pupils. As he caught his breath, she begged, "Again." 

On their last day, Brienne suggested that she could try learning one last time and Jaime happily obliged her. Ten minutes out, in their ski clothes and equipment, they went to the nearest bar, barely managed to dump them properly and ran to the bathroom. They fucked with Brienne bent over the sink, their eyes on each other through the mirror mounted above it. Their fucking was frantic, as if they had not done it this morning, or as if this would be the last time. Jaime growled his release against her shoulder while Brienne wailed against his palm cupped over her mouth. Afterward, as they sipped cider while surrounded by other bar patrons, they exchanged knowing grins, pink in the face and eyes gleaming for the secret only they knew. Jaime kissed her red cheek.

Jaime thought that three months after the first time, the thrill of fucking would dissipate. Gradually, it would become a twice-a-week thing, then once a week before it became something that only happened three times a month if he was lucky. Instead, they were fucking more than ever. 

Fucking Brienne was both truly satisfying yet never, never enough. Part of the thrill was because she was still new at it, and for him, she will always be. Brienne drew the line on sex that involved pain, hard-core bondage, and any other kink she couldn’t ever be ready for. Jaime didn’t push her her—they didn’t interest him either but thought if she were open, he could be too. However, of things involving peanut butter and certain sex toys, they were game for it. Brienne had looked dubious when he first introduced her to vibrating panties but she enjoyed them after a little persuasion. Jaime was thankful she came undone in the privacy of their penthouse. Brienne, still red-faced and gasping from the setting he'd set on the remote control for the panties, had been juicily wet. Had she agreed to experience it in public as he'd wanted, he wouldn't be able to enjoy the sweetness of their labor right away. If anyone besides him saw her reaction the panties would be sold out the next day. And he'd have to beat up everyone who saw her. It always took some convincing to get his wench to play in bed, a deep frown curling her forehead as he whispered about spreading cake frosting all over her body and licking her clean from head to toe. But Brienne didn't say no--and her responses only spurred Jaime on to more play. His favorite so far was when he'd convinced her to not only ditch panties but to also wear a dress that showed lots of toned thighs and legs on a night out. Dessert was searing-hot due to Brienne's blushes and the sweat on her forehead as she struggled not to come with his fingers deep in her cunt while she ate chocolate cake. But Jaime had been relentless and swallowed her gasps with kisses as she came so beautifully. Her legs were weak from the orgasm and he had to guide and hold her every step towards the limo. Once inside, the privacy screen was up so he fingered her. Brienne shook violently as she threw herself into his kisses rather than scream and be heard by the driver. He had bruises on his shoulders afterward. Her come coated her thighs. When they got home, he asked her to sit on the foot of the bed, dragged her dress to her waist. Then he lowered his head between her thighs to lick her clean. "Gods, how I love you," he groaned in the aftermath, and sought her lips. She moaned at her flavor on his tongue.

They have been together for a year and a couple of weeks. Despite this, it was clear that Brienne still needed much reassurance of his love.  
The realization hit Jaime while Brienne was plowing their closet for shoes. They thought to go out for breakfast one Sunday morning. Jaime finished dressing first while Brienne, unable to find half of the pair of sneakers she wanted to wear, thought to borrow his similar-looking shoes. 

“Don’t take too long now,” Jaime said, pretending annoyance. “I’m starving!”

“I’ll be sure to wheel you to Frey Pies and bring you back to life with your favorite chocolate cream pie,” Brienne said, rolling her eyes at him as she stepped out of the closet. Jaime shifted a bit to the side so she could sit beside him at the foot of their bed to put on the shoes.

As she bent, he appreciated the long, elegant line of her back. He grinned at the freckled band of skin revealed between the gap of her t-shirt and jeans. It was while watching the muscles at the back of her shoulders and arms ripple as she tied the laces that he said, out of nowhere, that he loved her.

Brienne straightened up. Looking at him, she asked, “You really do, don’t you?” 

The awe in her voice and startled expression broke his heart. He knew then that she wouldn’t take his love for granted, that she didn’t just appreciate it; she honoured it. He vowed that from this point, she would have more love than before. If he had his way she would get only love but he didn’t hold the world in his hand. 

Being with Brienne could sometimes drive him crazy but loving her had always felt seamless and natural, as if he had always loved her long before their paths met. Even when they were arguing with how he had to stand up to Tywin every now and then and Jaime was telling her she didn’t know how his father was, that she would never understand his situation, he loved her even more. 

As he suggested more ways to propose and Sansa shot down every one of them again, Brienne was at the back of his mind. Since getting her the ring, Jaime knew he had been looking at her more often and she was beginning to notice. 

Jaime watched Brienne raise her arms as she pulled on a turquoise sweater. Cast in the pale sunlight of the morning, she looked ethereal, a being of magic, with her pale, straw-blond hair, otherworldly blue eyes, freckles and pale skin. The muscles of her stomach rippled and that of her arms flexed as she pushed herself into the cashmere embrace of the sweater. 

She tamed the riot of her newly-cropped hair with a brush, straightened her sweater, brushed her palms down her long thighs encased in dark, slim jeans. Her boots were heavy, combat-style things that looked to be the size of submarines. She looked androgynous, maybe, but it was the bright light of her sapphire eyes that showed her a woman for Jaime. That and her long neck and the intimate knowledge gleaned from having tasted every secret of her body.

“You look like someone’s punched you in the gut again,” Brienne remarked as she put her phone in her backpack. Her functional, canvas one had been replaced by Jaime with a beautiful rendition in soft, chocolate leather, given on her birthday. 

“You’re a shock to my system, wench,” Jaime teased her. “Come here. Let me kiss you.”

Brienne affected a stern look. “It better only be a kiss, Lannister.”

He burst out laughing. “We already fucked this morning. I can control myself. Unlike you. Make sure _you_ give me only a kiss, Brienne. Come on. I’m aging here.”

Their kiss was slow and almost careful. Jaime breathed deeply, wanting the sugar scent that always wrapped her skin to be in his head. She brought her hand to his chest and he held it, loving the firm, heavy weight of her touch. Then he was pulling away and she, dropping her hand. 

His eyes here heated emerald pools while hers were the placid sea, stirred by the gentlest waves. He cradled her cheek in his palm. A small smile came upon his lips as she lowered her head, cradling his hand between chin and shoulder.

“You should always look like that,” Jaime whispered.

“Like what?”

“As if you’ve been thoroughly kissed and want more.”

He dropped her off at the Evenstar—now that they were living together, he didn’t see the point of having her go off to work on her own. So what if it was in the opposite direction? He liked to see her safe and secure. Before Brienne turned away to enter the shop, she gave Jaime the crooked smile that had become one of the things he couldn’t live without. 

“So. What are you going to do?” Sansa question reeled him back to the present.

Jaime, now with an idea forming in his head, grinned. “I’ll have Brienne tell you when it’s done.” 

 

That night  
Brienne was rubbing a towel roughly on her damp hair when she heard the front door open. “Jaime?” She called, hanging the towel back on its hook behind the bathroom door. Dressed in a robe, she padded out of the bathroom. “Jaime?”

“In the kitchen,” Jaime answered.

A year ago, Brienne would comb her hair first before facing Jaime—or at least, try to put some semblance of order because her boyfriend looked fucking perfect all the time. She was on a long, slow learning curve in realizing that while it never hurt to look presentable before Jaime—or anyone—he didn’t expect perfection always. She also stopped being so concerned about having her clothes on the rack arranged by colour then sleeve-length, or being embarrassed when she went to their bed with pimple cream on her chin. Jaime never made a big deal of the teeth whitening system he sometimes did before bedtime, in front of her, anyway. However, she teased him for the shelf of hair products he used to keep his blond mane tame and enviable. 

But she would never be comfortable fully naked in front of him, no matter how wicked Jaime’s grin was or how much it pleased him when she wore only her skin and freckles. She couldn’t do as he did—walk around the bedroom naked, let alone saunter around their apartment naked! Even now, though covered from throat to ankles in a thick, towel robe, she was blushing because her body was bare under it. 

She left the bathroom and walked on the long hallway before turning to the right toward the main area of the penthouse. Six months into their relationship, Jaime proposed she move in with him. It was fifteen minutes farther from her work, but she practically lived with him, not to mention that his place was a lot warmer than her own. He liked to tease her that her apartment was so cold it would probably rouse the wights of legend. Brienne had to ask him to slow down. This time she felt that things were moving too fast.

Two months later, she asked him hesitantly, “Do you still want me to live with you?”

Jaime actually punched the air and roared mightily, scaring her a little. “Seven Hells, wench. _Fucking yes!_ Yes!” And before she could recover from his reaction, Jaime turned away, went to her bedroom and started packing her clothes. 

She kept the apartment but rented it out to Sansa. It was her first property and had painted the walls herself rather than hiring professionals. She was loathed to give it up because she loved it but it was Jaime she wanted, Jaime she loved. 

She found Jaime in the kitchen looking over some mail. His suit jacket was folded on the counter and as he read from a paper with one hand, the other loosened his bold yet tasteful, red-and-gold patterned tie. Her teeth worried her lip as he loosened the top buttons of his shirt, revealing the strong, golden column of his throat.

“Wench, don’t just stand there,” though still reading, Jaime was smiling. “You smell great. Rub me a little, kiss me, come on.”

“You still smell like work,” Brienne made a face, remaining on her spot.

“Cruel wench,” he murmured.

She smirked and reached into the fridge for a bottle of beer. She uncovered it and handed it to Jaime. He grinned at her and took the beer. A quick pull and he set it down the counter. He stacked his hands against it.

“What more could a man ask for? A woman with the most astonishing eyes smelling so sweet and welcoming him home with a beer,” he told her. He took note of her damp hair. “You showered without me,” he accused her gently.

“Kingsland Daycare,” Brienne explained. “The kids attacked the cupcakes. After that I smelled of Play-Goo and crayons.” She shook her head. “Not your usual, well. . .” her cheeks flamed scarlet as she tripped over the words. “Not your favorite sugar scent, I’m afraid.”

Something seemed to cross over Jaime’s face but it was gone as quickly as it came. Brienne went to him and pressed her lips to his. “Why don’t you have your shower?” She asked him, sounding a little breathless because he was loosening the knot of her robe. “It’s pizza night tonight. Extra cheese and anchovies.” 

_“My woman,”_ Jaime growled, opening her robe. 

_“Jaime,”_ she whispered as her robe fell.

He pried her hands away from her breasts carefully, as if he might hurt her if he used even the gentlest force. Brienne caught her breath as he leaned up and kissed her along her wide jaw, licked the throbbing pulse at the base of her throat. Jaime looked at her, his breath speeding up as his eyes scanned every inch of her slowly, lingeringly.Where she saw too many freckles, he saw infinite places to kiss. She wished her breasts were bigger, fuller, but he liked them pert and they were very sensitive. And her legs—she liked that her long legs made running easier than most. He liked that her long legs always wound tight around his waist as they fucked, liked tracing the bunched muscles of her calves with his lips. 

She started as his hand roamed her thick waist, as if it was a delicate, curved thing before his fingers fluttered to the cool, damp curls of her cunt.  
She had a wax for their beach vacation last summer. When Jaime pulled off her bikini and discovered her surprise, he looked up at her and said seriously, solemnly, “I like the hair.” 

Since then, she had let it grow.

She moaned as he claimed her mouth again, while his hand remained cupped around her cunt, fingers pushing through the hair for the swollen nub between the lips.“Jaime,” she whispered as he licked her along the jawline again before his other hand urged her to lower her head so he may claim her lips. As she kissed him, his hands squeezed her breasts. _“Oh,”_ she gasped when his head bent to suck a nipple. 

“Next time, maybe you should welcome me home naked,” he suggested, his lips trailing back up to kiss her on the lips again. His arms were around her waist this time, holding her so tightly that his clothes would be marking her skin. Brienne didn’t attempt to push him away.

She laughed, burying her face against his neck. “Not happening, Lannister.”

They kissed some more before reluctantly stepping back. With crimson once again heating her cheeks, her throat, her chest, Brienne’s hands covered her breasts. “Always a shy wench,” Jaime told her before he picked up her robe.

As he draped it around her, there was that odd look in his face again. And again, was one too quickly before she could determine if it was real or imaginary. 

“Think of me while I take my sad, pathetic shower,” he said, pretending to sulk. 

“You can have fun on your own.” Brienne nodded at his hands then at his pants. Jaime threw back his head and laughed. He took his jacket from the counter. 

Before he turned away to leave her, his hand cradled her cheek. Brienne expected him to say something but nothing came out. Nothing but a dimpled, mischievous smile before he left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking that since Evenstar Bakery & Cafe's raking in a lot of profits, Brienne had taken Kingsland Daycare as their beneficiary. This would explain why she was serving cupcakes there. It's like her company CSR activity. 
> 
> WeTube is the YouTube of Westeros.
> 
> I couldn't think of a good Twitter equivalent so I went with Crows. 
> 
> Play-Goo is Play-Doh. 
> 
> Winterland=Land of Always Winter
> 
> Jaime and Brienne like making out with anchovy breath. 
> 
> Part 9 will definitely have more chapters than the others. :-)


	5. Five

Seriously, when was she going to learn? The first complete thought formed in Brienne’s heavily-muddled brain as she came awake in the slowest, seemingly unending stages. When Jaime Lannister smiled like that, he was up to no good.

She whimpered, the only sound she was capable of making after screaming so much last night. Dear gods, her body was. . .she was gone. Her limbs limp and useless. She had melted into the ground somehow. Such a selfish man, she thought, going for irritation. Gave no thought to what his mouth. . .what he could do to her.

As she climbed towards the last steps of wakefulness, last night hit her in a rush of images: Jaime’s smile before he left to take the shower, the predatory twinkle in his eye when he went to their bedroom finished and found her half-dressed. The mattress squeaking as she bounced hard on it. His tongue between her legs. Oh gods, it did not end with his tongue.

Jaime only gave her respite when the pizza came. As she lay panting, still confused and overwhelmed with what had just happened, he took care of the food, returned to the bedroom to help her into her clothes. He laughed as she growled at him for. . .ambushing her like that.  
She should have know the pizza was the only break she was getting.

To be fair, it wasn’t all Jaime’s fault. She had been compliant. She _didn't_ didn't have to traipse around in just a t-shirt, tempting her with glimpses of her bush and flushed thighs. And she had _reveled_ in his groans, at how he couldn't keep his hands off her or out of her. It was as if his passion had flicked a switch in her that awakened utterly mad cravings. She couldn’t get enough of his cock. Couldn’t get enough of him. Jaime. Jaime who made her beg for his cock repeatedly. She retaliated, and quite well, because the last thing she remembered was her name dragged from his lips and his eyes popping wide open.

Brienne opened her eyes. 

She lay on her stomach in a careless, abandoned sprawl taking up at least half of the bed. Mercifully, the drapes were drawn closed but she could tell that the sun was already up, a milky, bright glow in the sky, warming the ground though people would still be bundled up because it was fall.  
She stared at the window, at the antique, mahogany dresser—from her apartment—and on the bedside table, at the lamp. Her watch was next to it as well as her phone. 

Her nose picked up a familiar scent she had begun to associate with love and comfort since Jaime came along. She smelled cotton and warm skin, coffee, the softest trace of soap and the musk from their fucking that lingered in the air.

Rubbing her eyes, she rolled to her side heavily and there he was, sitting at the foot of the bed. Brienne drew the blankets to her shoulders when she saw him dressed in a faded green, long-sleeved t-shirt and gray-and-black checked pajamas. His hair was a little mussed, his beard could use a trim. His eyes shone. He looked like home, and her heart stuttered at the thought. 

Jaime smiled at her. 

“Good morning, wench.”

Brienne, blushing, burrowed under the covers, leaving only her head exposed. “Hi.”

Jaime reached for something by his feet. Two mugs. Coffee. “Something to revive my wench?”

Brienne smiled at him sleepily and sat up. She did feel like liquid. But scenting the coffee was slowly bringing her back to life. “Thank you,” she said, taking one of the mugs from him. 

In silence, they sipped their coffee. 

“This is soo good,” Brienne said, ignoring the burn in her tongue as she sipped some more.

“Careful. There’s no need to rush,” Jaime told her. He was taking his time with his.

“But it feels right,” she pointed out.

He put his hand on her leg covered by the blanket. “Strangely, it always is, isn’t it?”

They weren’t talking about coffee anymore. She was sure of it.

“What was that about last night, Jaime?” She asked, taking one last sip of coffee before setting it aside reluctantly. Still feeling boneless, she leaned against the pillows. Jaime liked the look of her eyes, sleepy yet vivid than ever.

“Did you not like it?” He asked. He took a last sip of his coffee too before he put the half-full cup on the floor. Languidly, he stretched across the bed. Her feet pressed, still covered, pressed softly on his stomach. He cupped them, blankets and all. 

“I like everything you do to me, Jaime. Let’s just say that last night you were. . .more eager than usual.” It wasn't the heat from the coffee she was sipping making her blush as vivid as a traffic light.

He grinned. “Are you complaining?”

“Gods, no. But. . .I got rough too. As a result. Are you. . .are you. . .” Her face reddened some more.

Chin in his hand, lying facing her, he said, looking in her eyes, “I like everything you do to me, Brienne.”

“I’m glad.”

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to do for a while.” Jaime told her, running his fingers through his golden waves. They tumbled back in place. “I had a long list of ways to do it. Nothing seemed right. However, I couldn’t just do it, you know? It’s not something I do everyday. But what happens after it, should you agree, is what I want to do for the rest of my life.” 

Brienne watched as he got off the bed. He went to get yesterday’s jacket from the hamper, she saw. But whatever it was, she couldn’t see it.  
Suddenly, she was clutching at the sheet. 

Jaime stretched back on the bed again, his hand still closed around whatever he had retrieved from his jacket pocket. He chuckled as Brienne suddenly jerked and reached for her coffee, taking a big gulp. 

“You okay there, Brienne?” He asked.

“Uh-huh,” she murmured, lips on the lid of the mug. Then she put it back on the nightstand and looked back at him.

“I like all my mornings with you. But my favorite part is looking at you.” Jaime said. 

Then, wearing that sexy smile that would always have her heart skittering and leave her breathless, a thing that had become part of her life with the ease of having always belonged there, he showed her his hand. He popped open the velvet box.


	6. Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Serious time jump up ahead

Ten years later

 

“No fair! That was a goal!” Jaime protested.

“No, it wasn’t! I kicked it away!” Brienne shot back.

“It was totally in and you know it!”

“It was so not in and you know it!”

As Jaime and Brienne continued arguing loudly, Joanna exchanged an exasperated look with her twin sister Arianne. Arianne rolled her eyes too.  
The Lannister twins were eight years old. Their hair was a thick, rich blond though Joanna’s ran to pale, almost white, especially in the summer, while Arianne’s had a golden luster. But they had their mother’s big, sapphire-blue eyes and a splash of freckles around the nose and cheeks. Long-limbed, it was clear they were going to be tall once older—they were already quite tall for their age. People said they looked just like their father but their eyes and smile were their mother’s. At least, Arianne had huffed, they looked like their mom. Who would want to look like their dad? He was handsome—their teachers thought so—but mom was beautiful. They wished they looked like her more.

“I told you they’re just going to kill each other,” came the smug, all-knowing voice of their younger, Gerion. He was six years old. Like his sisters, he was tall for his age. He was the exact miniature of Jaime, except for the freckles on his nose. The twins found him on the picnic table reading.  
“But Dad looks happy,” Joanna pointed out.

Arianne nodded. “Mom’s trying so hard not to laugh.”

“If mom and dad were alive during the Winter Wars, they’d be knights.” Gerion tilted his head as he looked at Brienne gesturing with her hands and Jaime shaking his head and trying to talk over her. His eyes gleamed but Brienne said something and he was back to shaking his head. “I think mom would kick his ass, though.”

Joanna and Arianne nodded. “Absolutely.”

The Lannister siblings watched in fascination as their parents argued. They were unaware that five-year-old Selwyn was right between them, frowning, almost horizontal as he craned his neck up to look at them. He was another Jaime miniature except for an interesting feature: he had one green eye and one blue. The Lannister twins thought he was adorable. His eyes were big and helpless as he looked at his sisters and brother for help. Gerion, taking pity on him, marched over to get his brother. Jaime and Brienne continued their verbal sparring, unaware as he pulled his baby brother out of the way.

Their parents argued a lot but it was often over card games, Monopoly, who had the bigger shoe size, and now, who had scored in their soccer game. And it was clear they had fun doing it—right now, Jaime was laughing and muttering `wench’ under his breath, which had Brienne getting redder in the face and hissing he was an asshole. It was pointless to clean up their language, in the children’s opinion. Especially since, sometimes late in the night, they would hear one or both their parents grunting the f-word. The children had enough sense not to repeat that word in front of either of them. 

Suddenly, Jaime snaked an arm around Brienne’s waist and kissed her hard on the mouth. Brienne snapped her head back, growled, “Lannister!” and then yanked him by the collar of his sweatshirt for another hard kiss. Their mom was a bit taller than dad and also loads stronger. Still, when she tilted her head back and when her leg began to hitch up, she was almost soft. It was while doing the latter that had both parents freezing and turning to look back at their children. 

Gerion waved at them. “We’re still here.”

Brienne, blushing, called out, “Sorry!”

Jaime shook his head and held her tight around the waist. “Well, I’m not!”

They walked back to their children arm in arm. As they started taking out food containers from the basket, Selwyn asked, “So, who won?”

“No one,” Brienne answered at the same time Jaime said, “I did.”

“You really are impossible,” Brienne told him.

“I sure am.” Jaime winked at her. “And you love me for it.”

Arianne made a face. “Can’t we have lunch first and gag later?”

“Arianne,” Brienne warned her.

She flushed. “Sorry, mom.”

But she smiled when Brienne kissed her on the forehead.

As they sat down and enjoyed their fried chicken, lamb skewers, cold potato salad and lemon cupcakes topped with either rich, strawberry frosting or chocolate-peanut butter, Jaime and Brienne would catch each other’s eye and smile. 

Neither could believe that they had the kind of happiness most people could only dream about. Jaime, though promoted to CEO of Lannister Enterprises at Tywin’s retirement three years ago was busier than ever. But he split responsibilities with his brother and sister, rather than hoarding them all to himself. As a result, he was always home for dinner. It was known in the business community that Jaime Lannister refused any evening meetings. 

Evenstar Bakery & Café had grown to three branches. Brienne didn’t want to expand any further, liking her business to be medium-sized and more than happy to leave it at that. A bigger business meant more work, way busier than she wanted. Like her husband, Brienne was firm about being home for dinner. Family and their commitment to each other came first, no matter what. 

An hour later, a little sleepy and tired from the lunch and their soccer game, Jaime leaned against the tree, his arms around Brienne, who lay between his legs. Her head rested on his chest. They sat with their longs legs splayed and stretched out. Brienne's legs looked more pale and freckled against the contrast of Jaime's denim-clad legs. They watched contentedly as their children played soccer this time. 

The sun was bright and made their blond heads shine even brighter. Their cheeks were pink and later they would rue about the minor sunburn they got. But for now, the Lannister children were kicking ball and shouting and laughing happily. Gerion and Arianne high-fived each other while Selwyn wailed that Joanna should kick "like you mean it!"

“Jaime,” Brienne’s voice hung between a moan and a whisper as he licked her behind the ear. She smelled of the sun and sugar. She closed her eyes as he kissed her, his lips pushing at the loose collar of her sweater to touch the bare skin. She gasped when his hands, loose around her waist, slipped under her sweater, her t-shirt, and caressed the bare skin of her stomach, her breasts. They were still small but rounder now from pregnancies and breastfeeding. They were heavy again, filled with milk for the child arriving in five months. 

“How can you be out in the sun and still smell so great?” Jaime groaned against her ear as he leaned away from the tree and toward her. Closer now, he showed Brienne the evidence of his desire.

“Oh, gods. They’ll see.” But Brienne was too drunk on the pleasure of her husband’s hands on her to care that much. “Jaime,” she continued admonishing him, but her heart wasn’t in it. She leaned back hesitantly, experimentally, and gasped. “You’re hard?”

“Hush. Not so loud, wench. Or they'd really see. Try to be quiet. They’re playing and if they look our way, they’ll see their parents loving each other. Nothing wrong with that.” Jaime told her, breathing hard against her skin. He smiled at the goosebumps that formed on her skin. 

Brienne turned her head around and he took her lips in his. Her hand went up to clasp the back of his head to deepen their kiss. Slow and gentle their kiss was, but it was all heat and tongue. Jaime, his eyes flickering briefly to their children, then unbuttoned her shorts. He continued playing with her breasts with one hand while the other delved past the cotton waistband of her underwear. He found the thick curls of her cunt warm and wet. Brienne's legs curled to her chest, trapping his fingers tight.

“Did arguing with me get you this wet? Seven Hells, Brienne,” he whispered harshly as he dipped his fingers between her soaked folds while his thumb circled her clit. Her hips lurched toward his hand. 

It took only a few rough strokes for Brienne to come apart, keening quietly against his mouth. “Wench, my wench,” he groaned as he helped her come down, his caresses gentling. He smiled against her temple as Brienne slumped against him, a sexy blush on her cheeks. His hands gently played with her breasts, igniting aftershocks through her body.

"Is that all you've got, Lannister?" She teased him. White stars continued to wink at her. Seven Hells, her husband would always be outrageous and she would be insane to try stopping him. She hummed as he licked the she'll of her ear.

“Guess I’m in for another wild night,” Jaime teased back, kissing the sweat dotting her forehead. Brienne’s pregnancies made her a lot hornier and she came so quickly it was just so fucking unbelievable. His cock stirred even more but he made no move to find relief. He was not above to touching his wife in front of their still-oblivious children but he wasn’t that big of an idiot to fuck her right where they are. 

“That, by far, is the most outrageous thing I’ve ever done,” she declared, still sounding a little breathless. She swatted his roaming hand away as she zipped her shorts and fixed her top. Jaime smirked before he licked her secret taste off his fingers. It would suffice for now.

“ _You’ve_ done? I seem to recall to have a hand in it,” Jaime couldn't resist making her blush harder. When she glared at him, her eyes flashing blue fire, he laughed. He lounged back against the tree and opened his arms. “Always such a wench. Robbing your husband of proper credit.”

“The children could have seen,” Brienne pointed out as she returned her head on his chest. She nuzzled her cheek against it, like a cat. He smelled of sweat and sun, the faint trace of his aftershave. She hummed against his shirt, inhaling deeply. 

“But they didn’t.” 

“Gods, Lannister. Why I put up with you I’ll never know.” 

“Because just as you know I love you, I also know you love me.”

Brienne blushed _again_ and buried her face on his shoulder. She kissed him on the throat. She smiled to herself as he groaned because he was still hard and getting harder still against her thigh. Torturing him some more, she licked him. 

As the afternoon grew late, they packed up their children and their things. Tired, the children were soon fast asleep in the backseat. Brienne’s heart softened at the sight of Gerion’s head on Arianne’s shoulder, Joanna on the other. Selwyn slept on Joanna’s lap. She turned to Jaime, who was also looking at them.  
He turned to her, cradling her cheek in his palm briefly before he started the car. Gazing at her husband adoringly, she asked, “So, Lannister. Are you ready for a fifth one?”

Jaime remembered a day, eleven years ago. He was bored and wanted a challenge. He was cranky toward Tyrion for dragging him out of bed to charm some baker into making a wedding cake. He had been restless for a while, even aimless, until the gloriously tall, massive form of Brienne Tarth with those astonishingly blue eyes lumbered into his life. She was Challenge itself, unexpected in all ways yet Jaime did not back down. He was ready. 

With Brienne, he became sure of more things but it was marrying her that gave him the courage to be ready for what life would be bringing him. Though they hadn’t expected to get pregnant so soon, he had welcomed his daughters with all the love he could give, which grew to include his first son and the next. It was knowing that Brienne loved him that drove him to accept the mantle of leadership Tywin bestowed on him, a position he had never wanted. Being ready for that taught him he didn’t have to have the power all to himself, that he could do thing differently, and hopefully, better than his father. 

Becoming a father for the fifth time, and at forty-nine years old, should be familiar and no longer as exciting. But again, it was because of Brienne why a lot of things still, and always, felt new and wonderful. He lived for when it was his turn to read the children their bedtime story, lived for the moments Joanna’s eyes flashed like her mother’s when annoyed, or when Arianne laughed, even coming home to find Gerion sitting on the floor reading or Selwyn smeared with frosting. He couldn’t wait to meet his new son or daughter and looked forward to the shenanigans the child would be getting into. 

And gods, fucking Brienne was still the most thrilling thing. Despite pregnancies, children, work, somehow, sex was still very much on the menu. One would think it had been so long since they came together when they locked themselves in their three-storey brownstone last weekend. Tywin had taken all his grandchildren to Casterly Rock—now that he was retired, he now gave his time to them and was often loathed to return them to their parents. He had _all_ his grandchildren with him. It had been a wildhouse, with Tyrion and Margaery's ten-year-old son Willas leading the pack. Tywin clamed that only Gerion and Cersei and Oberyn's twins, three-year-old Elia and Myrcella, had behaved "like civilized lot." 

Tyrion and Margaery used the free time to meet with their designer and contractor for renovating their house. Cersei and her husband, Oberyn Martell, went out to see their friends.

Jaime and Brienne remained in their house and fucked on every flat surface there was. His back was still bruised and sore while she had rug burns on her knees. It had become a rare freedom being able to fuck anywhere. She reminded him he took her on the conference table of Lannister Enterprises just last week, kissing away her protests. And that two days later they fucked in the tub. 

Jaime grinned at her now and reached for her hand. His thumb played with the slender band of her wedding ring on her finger, and the square shape of her sapphire engagement ring in a bed of diamonds atop it. Brienne’s eyes were gentle as he kissed her fingers, lingering on the one that held the rings. 

“I will be ready for everything, Brienne,” he told her, “for as long as you’re at my side.”

She breathed. “Jaime.”

He smiled at her, squeezed her hand and let go. “Ready to go home?”

“Always.” She leaned back, looking like the beauty he always believed her to be. She touched his cheek briefly. “Always, Jaime.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it. The End. Thank you so much for your support and your comments! Happy New Year to all!
> 
> Just a few things:
> 
> Oberyn Martell was Tyrion's assistant. Oberyn being Oberyn, I'm pretty sure he made a move on Cersei, because why not. Aside from Elia and Myrcella, they also have a son, seven-year-old Trystane. Their children have dark hair and emerald-green eyes. 
> 
> Tyrion and Margaery's son is Willas. His sister is Janna, only five years old. She has mismatched eyes like Tyrion, one green and one black. Their children have golden blond hair though Janna's is more dark blond and tends to darken more during winter. 
> 
> Jaime and Brienne, as you've seen, have a big family. At the end of the series, they don't know yet the sex of their fifth (and last) baby. They would have another son and name him Quentyn, after an ancestor of Brienne's.
> 
> The complete names of their children are, and their physical features::  
> Arianne Elizabeth (golden blonde, blue eyes, six-foot two as an adult)  
> Joanna Alysanne (pale blonde, blue eyes, six-foot-two and three quarters as an adult)  
> Gerion Lee (golden blonde, green eyes, six-foot-four as an adult)  
> Selwyn Dean (pale blonde, one green eye, one blue, six-foot-six as. An adult)  
> Quentyn James (pale blonde, green eyes, six-foot-one as an adult
> 
>  
> 
> Due to the close ages of the Lannister cousins, they are close. 
> 
> You might have noticed that Jaime and Brienne's children are aware that they say the f-word regularly, late at night. Because these two are still quite loud when doing it. Twice one of the children had burst into their room nearly catching them in the act. 
> 
> Sansa is godmother to Joanna and Arianne. She is married to Jon Snow. They have two children, a boy named Eddard or Ned, after her father, and a girl, Twyla, after Jon's mother. Brienne is godmother to Ned. Sansa and Brienne remain business partners. 
> 
> The Winter Wars is the name I gave to the ongoing war in ASOIAF.


	7. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne steers* Jaime to the idea of sleep.

Brienne stared at the heavy, dark double doors of Jaime’s study. She took another deep breath—she had been doing it since parking herself in front of his office five minutes ago. What had been a good idea as she lay in bed looking longingly at the empty space beside her was now insane and very inopportune. Jaime was neck-deep in another acquisition for Lannister Enterprises. He had been home for dinner but informed the children that their mother would be taking over story time tonight. They didn’t mind although Selwyn looked up at him with his big, mismatched eyes and asked him to swear to resume reading to them next week. Despite the shadows under Jaime’s eyes and his dull stare, he smiled at his son and put a hand over his heart. “I swear it. You have my word.” 

After story time, Brienne peeked in on her husband. “Don’t stay up too late.”

He looked up from the paperwork and shot her a tired smile. In the halogen light of his lamp, the bags under his eyes looked grayer. “I won’t.” 

Telling Jaime what to do was the equivalent of talking to a wall. The more he was told to do something, the more stubborn he became. So Brienne came up with the idea of having to lead her husband to the idea of sleep, indirectly though inevitably. She glanced at the robe she was wearing, wondering why she couldn’t be bothered to buy one silk robe. Money was no object. Jaime would definitely enjoy it. The problem was she was too practical and her husband would think bits and pieces of expensive silk were a waste too because he’d be ripping them off her immediately.  
But if she’d worn a coat, she would give away the game immediately. No. He had to be surprised. She just hoped she didn’t look as ridiculous as she felt in her droopy blue flannel robe, her round stomach and black stilettos.

She knocked on the door.

“Come in,” Jaime called out.

She let herself in. He was surrounded by papers as he typed on his laptop. “Wench,” he said, glancing at her. Brienne hesitated as she closed the door. He was busy and needed to concentrate. What in Seven Hells was she thinking?

“I should come back,” she said, reaching for the doorknob behind her. Jaime looked up sharply.

“No. Stay.” 

“I’m disturbing you.”

“Brienne, I want you to stay.” He insisted. “Although you shouldn’t be staying up late in your condition.”

Brienne had to laugh at his frown. “It’s only eleven, Jaime. Late, but not that late. And I’m only pregnant, not sick.” 

As she spoke, she walked toward his desk until she was standing right in front of it. She looked around. Of course Tywin wasn’t there, no one else was around save for her and Jaime. Still, it didn’t hurt to check first. 

She murmured, “So. Um. How are things?”

“We’ve got the White Horn Company by the jugular. They’ll be caving soon.” Jaime told her as he resumed typing. “Sit down, Brienne.”

Blushing hotly, Brienne started loosening the tie of her robe. “Um. Maybe not yet. I mean, I think I should be standing for this.” 

She opened her robe and slung it off. As it fell with a hush to her ankles, Jaime looked up from the laptop. His green eyes bugged out.

“Seven fucking hells,” he whispered raggedly.

Brienne stood uncertainly before him. Her broad shoulders were thrown back, thrusting her round breasts forward. Her nipples swelled to tight pink points as Jaime stared at them before continuing to her stomach. At seven months, it was rounder and bigger—her ob-gyn had predicted one hefty baby at the end of the term. 

Jaime’s eyes warmed at her round stomach and Brienne let out an audible sigh of relief. She had never felt sexy—a little more confident with her body, perhaps, but definitely not as sexy as Jaime declared her to be. She thought to wear a garter belt but it bit into her flesh. Putting on the black fishnets with the lace-edged tops was difficult enough. 

“My wench,” Jaime whispered, his eyes burning as he stared at her bare cunt hungrily. He licked his lips in anticipation. The pale curls of her cunt were dark with her dew. Brienne could almost feel his touch as his eyes tracked the muscular length of her thighs and long legs covered in the fishnets, at her feet in black stilettos.

“Seven fucking hells, Brienne,” he repeated, looking at her face. He was breathing hard. “If I’d knocked myself out working and I’m dreaming this, I don’t want to wake up.”

She shook her head, flushing. “You’re awake. Do you want me to pinch you?”

He smiled slowly and crooked a finger at her. “I’d rather you fuck me.” 

“So, um, is this okay?”

“You ask me that now when I’m about to come in my pants like a green boy? Now, Brienne. Get here now,” Jaime demanded harshly.

As soon as Brienne was within grabbing distance, Jaime put her on this lap. He held her gently around the waist as he helped her sit with her back to him. His fingers drifting to her cunt told her to spread her legs. Brienne bit her lip as she heard the rasp of his zipper being lowered, then he was pulling her closer this time. She shut his laptop and pushed it to other end of the desk while she swept aside the papers. Jaime laughed against her ear as he cupped her breasts gently. She turned her head and their lips met in a slow, seeking kiss. 

She then tore her mouth away from him to moan at the pleasure his hands brought to her breasts, her stomach, her cunt. Her spine bowed forward and he cupped the fullness of her breasts the position gave.Feathering kisses along her nape and shoulders, he whispered, “Take my cock out, wench. Fuck me.”

Gods, it was the dirtiest thing he’d said to her. Nodding, Brienne put her shaking hands on his cock, forcing herself to be gentle as she scooped it out of his pants. Jaime licked her neck, caressed her back. He clasped her short hair to tilt her head toward him to kiss her again. He pressed his mouth against her very plump lips, nipping it. As their tongues clashed and tangled, she started rubbing and squeezing him. "Now. Please." Jaime pleaded, helping her rise and sink down. Then she guided him inside her.

Their fucking was almost shy but no less frantic, Jaime wanting to be careful due to her condition, Brienne still wondering if she was doing the right thing distracting her husband. He needed sleep but he wouldn't do it. And damn it, but his kisses and touches felt so good. His cock was heaven.  
When Jaime’s harsh whispers of how good and hot she felt filled her ear, she gripped the edge of the desk, her spine bowing forward again. “No, lean on me, Brienne. Let me take you,” he urged her, pressing random kisses on her face and body as he had her press against him, her back to his chest. Brienne gasped his name when his fingers found her stiff, swollen clit and flicked it in circles. The pace of their fucking was almost languid but when they came together, it was with long, throaty cries.

A while later, they lay behind his desk. The carpet was rough but warm under their sweat-slicked bodies, and her robe had become their blanket. Jaime lay flat on his back, a lazy, satisfied look on his face while Brienne was wedged beside him, flushed and her eyes shining. His shoulder was her pillow. She flung her leg across his knees, smiling at how his hairs tickled her. Her stockings were gone. 

“So that’s what would have happened if my father wasn’t there,” was the first thing Jaime said.

Brienne rolled her eyes and punched him on the side. He groaned. ““Now’s not the time to talk about him, Jaime.”

“I know. Forgive me?” He kissed her sweaty brow. Brienne giggled as she felt his tongue lick her there.

“Are you hungry, Lannister?” She asked as he continued licking and kissing her. “Because there’s no way I’m getting up here. Go make yourself a sandwich. Oh, and me too.”

Concerned, he pulled slightly away from her. “Are you hungry?”

“I could use a BLT with lots of cheese.” She confessed.

“One extra cheesy BLT coming right up,” Jaime told her, slowly extricating his arm from under her head.

He helped her up. Though Brienne still exercised and was strong, getting upright from being flat on the floor was difficult. Jaime guided her through every stage, first helping her sit up, then putting his arm behind her knees to carry her, ignoring her protests. He put her down on the couch and she sank gratefully against it, panting a little. Then he helped her into her robe before he pulled on his pants. 

Brienne was almost asleep when Jaime returned ten minutes later carrying BLTS on a plate in one hand and glass of warm milk in the other. Hesitant to rouse her at first, he had to smother a laugh when the aroma bacon had her wrinkling her nose followed by her sapphire eyes opening. He sat beside her on the couch. In comfortable silence, they finished their sandwiches. They shared the milk.

Both were too sleepy and tired to head for their bedroom on the third floor. Jaime removed the cushions from the sofa, folded it out. As soon as the couch was converted into a bed, they sank down on it. Jaime stretched out flat on his back. Brienne, curving toward him, lay on her side, practically on top of him. She was heavier but he didn’t mind. He smiled as she kissed him on the throat.

“Good night, Jaime.”

“Good night, Brienne.”

As Brienne began to sail the first waves of sleep, Jaime murmured, “Wench?”

“Hmm?”

“Next time I’m too stubborn to sleep in order to finish work, do you promise to seduce me to it again?”

“You’ll always be a horny bastard, won’t you, Lannister?”

Though beginning to sink into a deep sleep, he asked, a smile in his voice, “Promise me, wench?”

She nodded, stirring the hairs on his chest. “I swear it. Now go to sleep.”

“As my wench commands.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I know. (snickers)  
> This series is supposed to be over BUT I can't get this bit out of my head. This is really the end. I hope you liked it! Thank you for your support. Much love and happy new year!


End file.
